Edward Masen tugged at the collar of his dress blues. Trembling fingers fidgeted and fussed, pulling the hem of his sleeve down over the stark white glove, adjusting the smooth white belt. It seemed to take forever to get it just so. Ever the U.S. Marine, Masen stood tall and adjusted his cover.

This was his first “mission” since he’d set foot on American soil, and while his presence had only been summoned in hopes that people would open their hearts and their pocketbooks, ensuring that children who were less fortunate had gifts to open on Christmas morning, held as much importance as any objective on the battlefield.

It had been so long since he’d donned the uniform that signified his service to country. Hell, it had been a long time since he’d worn any sort of formal dress and the retired Staff Sergeant felt woefully out of his element.

Retired.

He scoffed when glanced at the reflection in the mirror. That was what they’d called it when they shipped him home in a wheelchair, the other members of his unit in caskets.

Permanent Disability—Retired.

It mattered not that he could take down a target at five-hundred yards, nor that he had been fully rehabilitated and was more physically fit than he’d been during his years of active service. Once the Physical Evaluation Board made their decision, a service man’s fate was cast in stone. The VA Schedule for Rating Disabilities didn’t make any exceptions in the absence of one’s foot or any part thereof. Make it nearly an entire leg, you were pretty much fucked.

Oh, and did you know it’s not only our vets who can suffer PTSD?

Standing at attention, just to the left of Santa’s Candy Cane Cottage, was a U. S. Marine; his back ramrod straight, his dress blues immaculate. Her eyes took in the broad shoulders and narrow waist, the hint of dark hair at the edge of his cover, and if she allowed herself to believe in miracles, it could have been her beloved husband, returned from the dead.

Bella drew in a steadying breath and dared another peek, just as her apparition squatted and reached for the small knapsack a dark haired toddler held up with a smile.

The scene had haunted her a million times in her sleep—the child, begging for food, holding out his small knapsack for her husband to fill with an apple or sandwich; imagined Emmett’s easy smile as he offered the tot whatever he had. It was the Devil himself who strapped a bomb on the poor baby used as the instrument of her husband’s death and she was certain history was about to repeat itself.

Without hesitation she sprung into action. Shoving the children under a table set up as a gift wrapping station, she began screaming and crying, “Everyone get away. It’s a bomb!”

It might take our Marineward time and patience to break through her tough shell but he does and it’s amazin’ to see!

Grief affects everyone differently. Some flounder. Some ignore it all together. Some Just move on and go through the motions. But some remain stagnant, trapped in their grief, allowing it to consume them completely. Epov. Olderward. AH

Edward Cullen, honorably discharged Marine, has a new neighbor. Little does he know how much she’s about to change his life…for the better!

Sometime in the night, I was jolted awake, my pillow wet from tears. Memories of loud noises, people yelling and screaming, a gun being loaded and fired infiltrated my dreams.

I didn’t fall asleep again. My eyes wouldn’t shut, no matter how hard I tried. My mind was too occupied. Instead, I got up and forced myself to start the day.

Leaving my house that morning, I was met with basket and a hot thermos of coffee with a card attached, waiting for me on my front porch. I looked around, trying to find who left it, but I was the only one out.

I opened the card, and found blue paper with purple ink staring back at me.

Sir-

I hope you don’t mind this, but they say that some warm tea can do wonders for a tired soul. Chocolate, even better.

I think you could use some. Please enjoy this tea, the chocolate muffins and some fruit. I hope they bring you a smile.

I heard you last night. Your tears tore at my heart, your screams and yelling made me want to run to you. But since we don’t know each other, maybe this will help you to at least get through your day.

My door is always open.

Bella.

I stared down at her note, not at all sure what to think. It was the first time in a very long time that someone did something for me. I felt embarrassed that she had heard me; I hadn’t even realized I still screamed in my sleep.

I tore a bit of paper off her note, and replied back, leaving it on her door.

Bella-

Thank you.

Edward.

Edward and Bella have both been havin’ a rough time dealin’ with their losses but, together, they’re beatin’ back the darkness! Watchin’ ’em do it is very upliftin’!

Bella and Edward grew up together. They’ve shared a lot of firsts, but never the ones of the intimate sort, both always fearing it would ruin the relationship they had. Now as highly-sought-after, successful adults, neither can take it anymore. One phone call gives them the opening they need, but it’ll be easier than they think. Tattella/Tattward; M for Language & Adult Activities

Edward {not a Marineward *poutyface*} agrees to a photoshoot to promote his custom paint and body shop…with unforeseen consequences!

“Take care. Bye!” Mary ends the call, clasps her hands in front of her on the desk, and then looks at me. Her poker face is fucking perfect. Bitch.

“Well? Are you gonna tell me or am I gonna have to threaten your Milton-like stapler?” I say with frustration as I reach over and pick up her red stapler, holding it up by my face.

She laughs, “If we weren’t friends, you’d be in trouble for that little outburst. But, yes, I’ll tell you, so relax, stapler hater. He sounded a little surprised, so I said what I needed to, but it wasn’t needed. He said it wasn’t a problem, but actually great.” I smile and nod, satisfied with that answer.

“Now,” she makes a shooing motion, “go away. I have a few other calls to make for Irina, and I may have to do some begging. Alistair really fucked things up the last time we had to work with these clients.”

I chuckle as I stand and turn to leave, smirk on my face. In six days, the highly-sought-after, custom auto body detailing man will be mine, and this issue will officially confirm it to the world. Finally, Operation: Edward’s Mine is a go.

I guess it wouldn’t be so much fun watchin’ ’em figure it out if Bella already knew Edward was on the same page!

I’ve been in love with Bella for what feels like our entire lives. She’s everything I want and need, and as a tattooed and pierced pole fitness instructor and model, she fits perfectly in my world.

It’s only one o’clock, but I have this paint job to start. Thankfully, I have a couple of extra days for this one, so I can stretch my process a little. I gather my thoughts while I look over the car’s plans, trying to ignore the more erotic ones of Bella and I having naked fun on every surface imaginable.

I would prefer the latter, and it’s so hard to push away.

Ha!

I groan again and shake my head at myself. I’m incorrigible.

“All right,” I sigh to myself, and then try hard to focus on my work.

After a few minutes, I’m walking back to my spray gun, determined to finish the day’s schedule before planning Operation Make Bella Mine.

Edward Cullen has abstained from human blood for over a century. Present-day Chicago, he uses his gift of telepathy to solve crimes, during an investigation he hears a madman planning to murder an innocent young woman. While intervening on her behalf, Edward loses his superior control, becoming fixated on the song of her sweet blood crying out to him. Will he answer?

Bonus Vampward to make up for missin’ the last two Fridays!

The young woman attempted to hail a taxi without success. I cursed to myself when I saw she was setting out to walk, playing straight into the abhorrent hands of the killer. His confidence sickened me, he was sure she would be worth the trouble she’d cause him. My reaction to his detestable imaginings was . . . not on my watch!

Catching offenders after they have already committed a crime is an accomplishment, but it’s even more rewarding when I stop them from repeating it. If I have any say in the matter, this sicko’s games are about to end. I will not allow this crime to happen. This innocent woman’s life will not end at the hand of this murderer.

I will intervene on her behalf.

I wrapped myself around her and leaped to a nearby rooftop to a position where I could evaluate my surroundings. Landing in an abandoned alley, I held her back against my chest, unwilling for her to see the horror of what was about to take place. She smelled so unbelievably good I wanted to devour her, but her unexpected warmth seeped through to me, momentarily usurping thirst with intense physical desire. While my hand was over her mouth to keep her from screaming, she twisted and turned trying to loosen my hold, which only incensed me further. With my arm wedged between her breasts, it made me even more conscious of her soft curves.

What I wouldn’t give to see this beauty without clothes!

I am shocked by my own lasciviousness, not normally prone to such thoughts. In retrospect, I was foolish not to acknowledge this woman was awakening long-buried human emotions in me. . . emotions so foreign that I am thrown off guard.

“He’s here,” one of them whispered. I looked up to see Edward Cullen as he entered the room. He was wearing nothing, but a pair of jeans, showing off his muscular physique to the females of the pack as they drooled over him. His eyes scanned the room as if looking for someone. I sank further into the corner, I was hiding in, hoping I would go unnoticed and would be unable to witness most of the ceremony. You see, shifters weren’t so strung up about sex, not as much as humans were and tonight our alpha would claim his mate on the bed in the center of the room for all to see. It has even been known for the alpha to allow other members of the pack to join in, to show their appreciation of his chosen mate. I guess it was the human part of me that was repulsed by the idea. I didn’t see why they couldn’t keep that stuff private, but I guess it was part of their nature. It just wasn’t part of mine.

And it just gets better from there, if that’s at all possible! There’s chasin’ and catchin’ and claimin’ and markin’…at least on Edward’s part. Bella’s bein’ stubborn LOL!

PB’s back and we’re all gonna be in trouble…the best kind, of course *woo hoo!*

I notice the silence, and see Emmett and Rosalie exchanging a glance. “What?”

“Edward, there’s no one better at what you do.”

“I know that,” I snap.

“And you’ve been doing it a long time, no breaks. Which is great for our pockets…”

“But?” I totally sense a ‘but’.

“Rosalie and I think you need a break.” He says it really fast; like he’s afraid I’m going to take offense to this. Which of course, I do.

“I don’t need a fucking break, Emmett. I’m at the top of my game. There’s no reason to stop as long as we have clients.” I pause, suddenly anxious. “We do have clients, do we not?” I look between him and the blonde who actually is our company accountant, as she narrows her eyes at me.

Emmett clears his throat and perches on the front of his desk, his big hands squeezing the wood. “We feel it’s in the best interest of the business if you take a little rest, that’s all.”

“Have I screwed up? Gotten made? Left anyone alive that shouldn’t be? No. The answer to all three of those questions and your request for a break is no. The business is fine as long as we’re all doing our jobs.”

“Oh hell Emmett, if you won’t tell him I will. You’re turning into an asshole, Edward. You need a fucking vacation.”

So, out of all the exotic destinations in the world, which one does Edward choose? More importantly, why…

The year is 2300 and Earth no longer exists. Famine and poverty are non-existent, disease is at an all-time low and emotions have no impact. Society is perfect, but is there such a thing as too perfect? After discovering her ancestor’s diary, Bella learns that there’s more to this foolproof world than meets the eye. FIRST 8 CHAPTERS ARE A COLLAB WITH VAMPIREGIRL93.

From Sharp Left Turn to Wanted, Fyrebyrd never fails to deliver a whoppin’ great yarn! Mating Deviation is her first venture into science fiction, a genre I loved for many years…way before fanfiction snuck up and changed my whole view of the written world LOL!

Dear Diary,

My name is Amelia, and today I watched the world end.

In the blink of an eye, I’d become a science experiment. My entire existence up to this point ceased to matter. Life on Earth was coming to an end; everyone I knew and loved would die.

And they did.

I watched as Earth disintegrated in front of my very eyes through the porthole of a spaceship transferring hundreds of passengers to the Tesla Enterprise. Everyone cried as they watched Earth end—with it, all their loved ones. I was sure everyone I knew was gone until the moment I was delivered to a pod for educators such as myself and was met, face-to-face, with Teddy.

Hope slowly began to restore itself.

I threw my arms around him, sobbing uncontrollably. He held me for what felt like hours, also crying silently. I then asked Teddy if he knew what they wanted from us, and he cleared the tears from my cheeks as he replied, “They want us to replenish the human race.”

I was born not a native of Earth, but rather one of the Andromeda Galaxy, as were my compeers and those before us. For the last one hundred and fifty years, our existence has continued to thrive on a system that consists of two missions: service and reproduction. As I am seventeen-years-old, I have already mastered my profession as a librarian in the Education Pod. Meaning, I have only one duty left to fulfill.

Our companions are handpicked for us from the Commanding Pod before we are even birthed. It is something we are taught to accept and embrace, for we would not exist if it were not for this predetermined copulation.

However much I tell myself that I have nothing to fear, there is an anxiousness that clings to me throughout the morning as I prepare for the ceremony. Jitters, I suppose, or perhaps I am just overwrought after learning that people like us, who were chosen to breed together, could do something more than simply coexist. I tell myself that it is absurd, and yet Amelia and Theodore Swan are proof of ardor’s existence.

However, Bella discovers an anomaly in the computer program that selects breedin’ pairs. This discovery will change everything…a change many people will reject unilaterally, especially those in power who are profitin’ from the status quo!

Some so called friends invite Bella out for her birthday, and send her to a BDSM club as a prank. What happens when the owner of the club sees her? Will he be able to set aside his Dom nature? Will she ever believe she deserves to have her needs met? Will he be able to set aside his wants and desires to meet those needs, or will she find her true desire is to submit to him? AH/M

Someone in one of my FB groups was searchin’ for a particular fic today and I was reminded of this wickedly delicious story! Checked out the first chapter to see if it was the one I had in mind and COULD NOT STOP READIN’!

I am a Dom, and I love having control. I guess you can’t help the way your mind, body and soul direct you. I didn’t choose to be a Dom, it chose me.

Each time I find myself in a relationship, there just has always been something missing. It’s like I can’t find that other half to make me whole, or there’s always a piece missing.

I rub my face walking to the window where I can see the whole bar area and there’s a bank of monitors for viewing the entire club, including private rooms and secluded areas. You see this is Seattle’s most upstanding BDSM club. As I glance around the room, I see a young woman-girl who is looking lost. I let out a sigh and pick up my jacket. I hate the beginning of the new college season. We always and I mean always get the sorority or fraternity houses—sometimes both—sending pledges here as a joke.

It’s very clear that she has no idea where she is, or what she’s walked into by entering this establishment. Just as I reach her, another Dom speaks to her. I wait and listen, because you can tell a lot about someone from how they speak.

“Little One, are you here with anyone?” he asks keeping his hands to himself. That’s a sign of a good Dom. No one should never touch another Dom’s sub and just because she’s not traditionally collared, doesn’t mean she doesn’t belong to someone.

The girl looks around herself. “I am not really sure Mr…” her voice trails off not knowing his name.

I raise my eyebrows at her response. Where she was polite and respectful with her reply, it was certainly not a typical response for a submissive. This is just further proof to me that she doesn’t belong here, nor does she know what this place is.

“SIR!” he booms at her.

I roll my eyes at James. He’s a very old school Dom and expects everyone, even those who aren’t of our preferred lifestyle to bow at his feet. Other Dom’s and I have spoken to him before about this, but he just can’t keep a grip on it. As much as we would like, not everyone knows about or is into this lifestyle.

I bite back the chuckle, because she really does look puzzled by his response.

“No, Little One, you should say Sir when speaking to me? Now are you here with anyone?”

This time the girl shrugs her shoulders and bites her lip. I move over to them, knowing that James will just get more pissed off at her.

“You will show me respect.” James makes a move to touch her, but I grab a hold of her arm pulling her toward me. Fuck she’s really small. I notice how much, as I tower over her. I know that I’m tall standing at six-three, but I have a clear foot over her.

“James,” I say his name and James sneers at me and walks away. “You, come with me.”

The girl looks at me in shock and shakes her head as I look at her face. I can see that she’s a beautiful girl and she has really pretty eyes. I swallow trying to get my mind working again, because all it’s doing is trying to convince me of what I need. It’s like hearing a looped recording of, ‘You need to dominate her and fuck her into submission.’

Needless to say, Edward heeds the call to the satisfaction of them both!

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